


Peace

by crescent_gaia



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Post Revelation 6:8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7364884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescent_gaia/pseuds/crescent_gaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos just wanted his beer and soup but it turns into something different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trobadora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/gifts).



> Set a few months after the final scene in the graveyard. Please enjoy. :)

Methos slipped into the Paris café, grateful that it was close to empty for once, and grabbed a table. He only came here once a week, even mixing up which day a week he did, and he wished he could visit it more. It didn’t help that he felt someone tailing him last night and he slept in his office rather than lead whoever it was back to his home. He wanted to keep up the cover of being a normal human as much as possible, which meant finding cheap places that were surprisingly nice. He smiled as the waiter came up to the table. “Un pression, s’il vous plait.”

The waiter nodded and went off to get the beer. Methos tried to relax and sighed as he felt an immortal close. “Not now,” he said under his breath but didn’t move. It had been a long day, which helped to keep his mind off of how he left things with far too many people, and his mind kept on floating back to Cassandra. He thought more and more about finding her and offering his head to her. He would have let her take it a few months ago but, of course, Duncan had to save him. He smiled as the beer was placed down and ordered the soup of the day. The soup was placed down, with bread and some butter, and he started to eat, dismissing the odd taste in the soup as herbs he wasn’t used to. He was halfway down when a short man with red hair and green eyes sat down across from him with the ping he was feeling. “Ah. You’re not much.”

“Same could be said for you,” the man replied. “How’s the soup?”

“Hmm,” Methos said. “Should have seen that. Either way, it’s good, so I’m going to finish, if you don’t mind? Unless I can double your offer.”

He chuckled. “She said you’d try that and she’s got something you can’t pay off.”

“Ah.” Methos continued to eat the soup. “Poison or something to fall asleep with?”

“Poison. Your cover’s about to have an allergy to peanuts.”

Methos chuckled. “Predictable. Has she considered what might happen?”

“Not your concern or mine. How’s the beer here if you’re going to take forever?”

“It’s not like we don’t have the time,” Methos said and winced. The poison was starting to take effect and he waved off the waiter who came to check on them. “You should pay the bill.”

“That was taken care of as well.” 

Methos tried to say something else but, instead, made a sound like he couldn’t breathe. That was when the man moved over, using a fake epi-pen to sell the story of an allergy, and yelled for an ambulance to be called. He lost consciousness as he could hear the ambulance rolling up and opened his eyes in an exquisite bedroom. He slowly sat up, cracking his neck as he did so, and moved over to look out at the view. They were at the coast, up by Brittany if he was guessing, and leaned against the window frame. He turned as the door to the room unlocked with a young maid coming in with a large breakfast for him. She put it on the table as he sat down to eat, moving to the closet to take out clothes for him as well as make sure everything was in the bathroom. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Mont Saint-Michel, mon Seigneur,” the maid replied.

He raised an eyebrow at the ‘my lord’ but didn’t question it. “When will I meet my host?”

“She will meet you when you are ready for the day,” the maid said in perfect English before curtsying and leaving the room.

“This is going to be interesting,” he muttered and ate the entire breakfast. He got ready quickly and tried the door that led out of the bedroom. It opened for him and he walked to the staircase, looking down before looking up and seeing there were a few more floors. He went down, going out to the patio and watching the sea in the distance. He felt who might be his host as he or she stepped out, turning around and catching his breath as he saw Cassandra. He cleared his throat. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Cassandra replied, walking over to him. “I hope that Max wasn’t too harsh on you. He also wasn’t the only one trailing you. You’re getting reckless.”

“I’d say the ones following me are the reckless ones,” he said. “I don’t like the fact that I now have a peanut allergy that I have to keep up.”

She chuckled. “Better that than your head missing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted that. Or you only want to be the one to take it, dear Cassandra? Do you regret that MacLeod made you stop before you could end it? End your nightmares or your dreams, depending on how you feel that night.”

“Oh shut up,” she said, pulling him close and kissing him. Once he was over the shock, he kissed her back and looked confused when they broke the kiss. “Regret that I was foolish to not think through what I was about to do,’ she said quietly.

“You can have it, if you want,” he said quietly. “I would want it to be you, in the end.”

She smiled. “I don’t. At least, not today. I found something, out here. Not peace, I don’t think I’ll ever have that, but something you gave me once. It was a necklace… a trinket, worth nothing to you or to any of the horsemen, but you brought it to me. You said that it made everything work and… maybe it was Stockholm syndrome. Maybe it is something else, but we won’t know if I take your head, no matter how much I want it.”

“You have it, as well as many other parts of me, but I think you knew that already,” he said.

“I do. It just took me a long time to realize it,” she said and smiled. “Stay, for a bit? I would ask for you to stay forever, but that is not like you. Or me.”

“A week, to start,” he said. “And then we’ll see.”

“We will,” she said, kissing him again. After, she took his hand, leading him out to walk on the beach as both felt a sense of peace and healing of old wounds.


End file.
